Island
by MeanieEer
Summary: "At the top stood a little boy, no older than six or seven. Fine silver hair hung down at his shoulders and wide, near violet eyes stared at him with curiosity. He wore a white tunic that was too long for him, and looked much too cold for this weather." In which Norway meets Iceland, and Denmark is annoying (but that's typical) No NorIce. No flames, please- my house is warm enough.


I don't own Hetalia. Iceland, Denmark, and Norway belong to Himaruya.

I really have no idea what I was doing when I wrote this. I write AU Hetalia stuff (none that I finish) and capitals of the country stuff (again, I no finish) all the time, but this is my first time writing a piece like this… I hope it's good.

…

A flurry of puffins flew past his cave, black dots a blur against the grey sky. It was hunting time for the islanders, and he made note that it was miðvikudagur- not Þriðjudagur ***like he thought. It was always this day that they came out to catch the little birds that would feed their families- paired with the vegetables that they grew (and would sometimes share with him) next to the Hákarl** (he devoured it when the old lady on the beach shared her family's).

Out of habit, he glanced at his own friend next to him. Mr. Puffin sat next to him- cuddled in his nest with his eyes closed (sleeping or trying not to see his kin being hunted). He always worried that Mr. Puffin would be in the middle of those groups during the hunt, but most of the hunters knew that if they caught the little puffin with the red bow around its neck, they were to make sure it wasn't injured and release it (if it wasn't) so it could return to him.

"Are you sure he's up here?

His head shot up and he stood slowly. He ran through voices in his head and tried to match it with one of the islanders.

"If he isn't, I don't know where he would be. We've looked everywhere else."

He smiled as he recognized the voice of the son of the old woman. He was a kind man- unlike his brother, who was mean about sharing their food with him- and he liked him a lot. The man had a son his age, and they would play together like he had with the man when he was their age.

"I have already sent my boat off. I need to have formed a bond with him before Denmark's going to find me."

"It will not be difficult at all, sir. When I was a boy, the boy and I were friends before the end of the first day we met. He has been a friend of my family for hundreds of years."

He wasn't sure of what they were saying, but he was sure that he had never heard the voice of the first man. Leaving Mr. Puffin sleeping in his nest (defiantly sleeping- a snore had just came from the bird), he shuffled sleepily over to the opening of the little cave. His pendant- the one that the first man to settle the city he lived near had given him- thumped against his chest as he walked and he had to catch himself as he tripped over his much-too-long tunic. Thumb in mouth, he peeked out and down the path that led down the rocky hill. The two men were making their way up the ragged path- which wasn't difficult for the man he recognized, for he had man the trip many times and he wore the clothes of a peasant.

His companion- a man he didn't recognize at all- was having a harder time. This stranger wore a long tunic of blue and gold- with long sleeves, puffy shoulders, and a high, ruffled neck of white-, silk white hosiery, and a leather shoe. A side of his hair was pinned back by a cross shaped pin, and a deep blue hat rested on his head. He had a pendant of his own (the stranger's was similar to his own) and a club like weapon hanging at his side.

Each step of the stranger was carefully placed and shaky. The stranger wasn't out of shape- he could see hints of muscles under his clothing- but it seemed like the stranger was being waited on by the man. The man even had a large pack on his back. He looked up towards the cave, saw him, and waved.

"Hello, Iceland." The man called up to him, and the stranger looked up from his feet. "I brought a friend for you to play with!"

...

_Earlier that day._

It was from a peasant farmer that Norway had heard about the little boy. He had been on the island for many weeks now and he was surprised he hadn't heard of the boy before now. Luckily for Norway, he had learned the language of the island, so he was able to hear the market man speaking with the farmer.

"How is little Island? Does that bird still follow him around?"

The farmer had laughed and nodded. "That little bird has followed him around since it was my grandfather playing with him, instead of my son. And he is well. My mother brought him some Hákarl and he nearly inhaled it." They laughed together and the farmer received his trade and departed.

Before he realized it, Norway was running after the peasant. "Excuse me!"

The man turned around. His eyes went wide as he saw Norway running towards him.

"Can I help you?" The man asked. He looked a bit worried that a rich looking man (actually, the man thought Norway had been a boy of only fourteen) was running towards him- a weapon at his side.

"Can you tell me about the boy you were just talking about?"

"Iceland? What about him? He didn't steal anything from you, sir?" He looked worried for the boy. "I will apologize for him now, sir. He doesn't have parents to teach him right from wrong. My mother and I had tried teaching him, but it is difficult when he sees us as the small friends he had instead of role models. You can't blame him- from what I heard, it takes years for personifications to grow. Island has only grown a few years in his existence."

Norway laughed. "Don't worry, sir. I am Norway. I would like to meet him."

The peasant had agreed, but Norway's had appeared.

"Sir, the boat leaves soon."

"Change of plans. I will be staying."

"But sir, Mr. Danmark..."

"He will have to deal with it. I will stay longer. Tell Danmark it is my decision. If he punishes you, tell him I will be very unhappy. Remind him of the winter of 84.*"

And with that, he turned and he and the man had started searching for the little boy. After many hours of searching and asking children if they had seen them, Norway and the man had looked everywhere.

"We've looked everywhere. Did he wander somewhere?"

The man shook his head. "Well... he could be in his house. I don't know why he would be there so late, but perhaps he just felt like staying in today."

Norway agreed, so they begin the trek to where Island lived. It was very close to where the man lived, so we stopped from a brief break and a promise of a delicious meal that will be prepared by the man's mother, wife, and daughters. After the break, they walk to where the child supposedly lived. They came upon a rocky hill, covered in birds.

"He lives up there?" Norway stared at the hill. "Where?"

The man pointed to a sketchy looking path that lead up to what Norway guessed to be a cave. "That cave up there blocks the cold, and his pet can be with his kin. It also never changes, so he can be there forever- and he has been."

And so they began their walk up the rocky path. Now, (like Iceland had said) Norway wasn't out of shape. He had spend hundreds of years as a Viking- fighting other Vikings off his land and battling other countries alongside his neighbors and (depending on the situation) friends- Sweden, Finland, and Denmark (sometimes he would even call them brothers, though he would never admit it to anyone). Norway was very much in shape. But there's something about a strange, unlevel, rocky, steep path that can make even Norway uneasy in his stepping. The peasant had climbed this path many times- Norway could tell- and he could see that the man was slowing down for him. Norway didn't like looking so pathetic, but he also didn't like having a broken ankle.

"Are you sure he's up here?" Norway asked. If he had to climb this ridiculous hill just for a thought…

The man nodded. "If he isn't, I don't know where he would be. We've looked everywhere else."

"I have already sent my boat off. I need to have formed a bond with him before Denmark's going to find me."

"It will not be difficult at all, sir. When I was a boy, the boy and I were friends before the end of the first day we met. He has been a friend of my family for hundreds of years."

Norway stared at the ground in concentration. Left foot, right foot. He hoped the way down was easier, or he was sure it'd take him until dawn to get down. He was sure.

"Hello, Iceland!"

Suddenly, Norway looked up. At the top stood a little boy, no older that six or seven. Fine silver hair hung down at his shoulders and wide, near violet eyes stared at him with curiosity. He wore a white tunic that was too long for him, and looked much too cold for this weather.

"I brought a friend for you to play with!"

The little boy smiled. A breeze ran through the air and he shivered. _I'll have to get him warmer clothes._ Norway made a note in his head and also made a note to ask the peasant if there were any tailors nearby. Otherwise, he'd have to make do with what he could.

"Hello, Iceland." Norway stumbled a little and heard a bit of a giggle come from the top.

"Iceland," the man laughed with him. "Why don't you come down here? I think our guest is going to break an ankle if he goes any higher."

…..

_Months later…_

"Stóri bróðir***, what is that?"

With a glance, Norway glanced to where Iceland's finger pointed. High above, a bird of prey was circling the beach.

"That's…"

One of Norway's men stepped out of the guard buildings and approached him. "Sir, it's one of Mr. Denmark's birds. We're estimating that his boats will arrive sometime tonight."

Norway nodded.

"Bróðir, who is Denmark?" He looked over and saw Iceland at his feet, holding tight on Norway's tunic, puffin in hand. "He won't take me from you, will he?"

Norway smiled softly and crouched down to scoop up Iceland. "Denmark is a friend. Sometimes, I can even call him brother. And he won't take you from me. He's more than likely just worried that I haven't gotten back yet. You don't have to worry, bróðir."

It had been nearly a year since Iceland and Norway had met and- just as the peasant farmer had said- they bonded very quickly. Iceland had abandoned his little cave and moved in with Norway. Gone were his too big tunic and flimsy shoes. He now wore tunics, hats, and shoes similar to Norway's own, and long socks. They didn't have the high necks or high heels, but there was no mistaking small Iceland as just a peasant boy anymore. Mr. Puffin's bow was replaced by a silk red one, and Iceland's pendant remained on his neck.

For Iceland's sake, Norway went through their regular schedule. Norway taught Iceland his letters, numbers, Norwegian, Danish, Swedish, and Scandinavian history. Iceland taught him about the island- the people, the culture, the creatures. The farmer's mother gave Norway and Iceland Hákarl for midday meal. Iceland got two servings of Hákarl that day.

"Bróðir." It was getting dark and Norway was getting ready to head back to the village for the night. No one had come for the two yet, so he guessed that Denmark's boat was staying away for the night so they'd have all day. Iceland had tugged on Norway's tunic again.

Norway looked down at him. "What is it, Iceland?"

He looked down at his feet and was quiet for a second before looking back up at Norway, smiling. "I want to show you something."

Norway smiled back at him. "Can it wait until morning?"

Iceland shook his head, and grabbed Norway's hand. Without a word, he led him in the opposite direction of town. They walked for a while before coming upon a clearing. All of a sudden, a smile broke out onto Iceland's face. He began to chase Mr. Puffin around the clearing, laughing constantly and yelling at the bird in Icelandic. Norway watched as he caught Mr. Puffin and spun around to look at Norway.

"Look up, bróðir!"

Norway looked up and gaped at the sight

"The man who gave me my pendant told me they had the lights at your place, bróðir. But he said there was something different about them here." He laughed as Norway smiled at the Northern Lights. "They look better if you lie down and watch them, bróðir."

Norway looked back at him and nodded. He crossed the clearing and sat down next to Iceland- who was already lying on the ground. Norway leaned back and rested his head on the ground, not worrying about getting his clothing dirty. Once he had settled, Iceland scooted closer to Norway and snuggled into his side- resting his head in the crook of his arm.

"Isn't it beautiful, bróðir? The pendant man told me he liked seeing them, because they reminded him of his home country." Norway heard him yawn. "I could stay out here all night. Can we, bróðir? I don't think it'll rain or snow. It's not cold. Please, can we?"

"Maybe, Iceland."

They laid there for a long time and Norway began to feel drowsy. He looked at Iceland, and saw that he was fast asleep. He smiled and closed his eyes. It _was_ nice, just lying here…

…

"NOOOOOOOOORGIEEEEEEEE!"

A loud yell broke Norway out of his sleep. With a groan, he sat up and rubbed his head while he cracked his back. _I'm defiantly _not_ going to sleep on the ground for a long time._

"NOOOOOOOOORGGGGGGGGGE!"

Norway groaned. He knew exactly whose voice that was; even it had been over a year since he had seen him. He shoved himself to his feet and wiped the dirt off his clothes.

"WHERE ARE YA, NORRRRRGE?"

All of a sudden, Denmark burst in the clearing. He wore his usual armor with the red neck wrap. He spied Norway and smiled widely. "Norge! There ya are!"

He ran over and swept Norway into a bone crushing hug.

"I missed ya, Norge! Ya didn't come back, and I got worried. Ya really shouldn't use 84 against me, Norge. I said I was sorry."

Norway scoffed. "Annoying, as always. And 84 is how I keep you from chopping my men's heads off every time I tell them to go home without me. What are you doing here, Dane?"

"Yer boss sent me. He needs ya back in Europe, Norgie. He's still confused to why yer here."

"I met…" He trailed off when he realized that Iceland wasn't in the clearing. In fact, he didn't remember seeing Iceland when he had woken up. Forgetting Denmark was there, he began to walk away.

"Hey, Norge. I was talking to ya!"

Ignoring the Dane, he started looking in bushes. "Iceland?"

"Who's Iceland? Isn't that what this island is called?"

"Shut up, Dane. Iceland? Where are you, Iceland?"

There was no answer and Norway began to panic. He didn't know this area of the island well, and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to check if Iceland had gone back to town, because he didn't know _how_ to get back to town.

"Iceland, this isn't funny anymore. Bróðir isn't having fun, Iceland."

"Wait, what? Since when do speak the island language, Nor?"

"Shut up, Dane!" Norway snapped. "Island! Storebror er ikke fornøyd lenger Island!_" _No answer came from the small boy. "Storebror Norge vil forlate deg her!"***

…

A sudden cry came from the woods. A few seconds later, a small boy ran in the clearing- eyes filled with tears.

"Nooooo! Don't go, bróðir! Don't leave me! I'm sorry! Sorry, sorry! Very sorry, bróðir! I was hungry, and I went to get morning meal for me and bróðir! Don't leave me!"

The sobbing child threw himself into Norway's arms. A shocked Denmark watched as Norway lifted him up and held him tightly to his chest, whispering what he assumed was the island language.

"Norge, ya have noooo idea how confused I am. Who's the little brat kid?"

Norway shot him a glance. "Shut up, annoying Dane. This is Iceland."

"Who calls their kid 'Iceland'?" He shook his head. "Unoriginal, if I do say so."

Norway was about to respond, but Iceland beat him to it with a huff.

"My name isn't just _Iceland. _I _am_ Iceland. Bróðir was right: you _are _annoying." Norway chuckled and put Iceland down. The little boy wiped his tears and gave Denmark a glare.

All of a sudden, Denmark grabbed Iceland and lifted him up in the air.

"Noooooooorrrrr! He's sooooo cute! Even cuter that ya were! Ya should have sent word, Norgie! I would have come sooner! Soooo cute!"

Iceland looked at him in horror. "Put me down, annoying! Stupid annoying! Put me down!"

Denmark just ignored him and pulled the boy in for a tight hug. "Not fair, Norge! I want a little brother!"

Norway chuckled as the little boy beat his fists on Denmark's armor. "Niður, pirrandi! Settu mig niður núna! Ég meiða þig, pirrandi!"*** He grabbed Denmark's hair and pulled tight.

"Ahahaha! Cute little kid! I've been stabbed more times than ya can count, kid! Hair pulling is _nothing!_ Can he come back with us, Nor? Fin'll love him! I wanna watch the two of ya fight over Mom stuff! Ow! Bloody pigeon****!" A very angry Mr. Puffin was pecking at Denmark's head.

"Shut up, Dane." He took Iceland from Denmark and set him down. Mr. Puffin gave one last peck before flying off with Iceland- who had whispered something in Norway's ear in the island language, and run back off into the woods. "I haven't thought about that yet. He doesn't want me to leave, but I'll need to go back to Norway eventually."

"But you said you wouldn't leave me, bróðir." Norway turned and saw Iceland standing there, holding a basket of what they guessed to be food. "Þú lofað..."***

Norway went to the little boy and picked him up. He held Iceland tightly to his chest and he comforted the- once again- crying boy.

"I know, I know. But I have responsibilities, Iceland. I'll have to go back eventually."

The little boy sniffed. "Then can I come with? I don't want to be alone again." He sniffed again and smiled slightly. "I want to see where stóri bróðir lives. As long as pirrandi doesn't annoy me."

Norway smiled wide, which shocked Denmark. "I can't promise he won't be annoying, but if you want to come…"

Iceland smiled again. "I want to! I want to! Oh, please! I'll be good! I won't make you eat Hákarl again!"

Norway laughed impishly. "Speaking of… oh Dane?"

Denmark smiled at his name. "Yeah, Norge?"

Iceland realized what Norway was doing and he laughed. Norway smiled at Denmark- who then realized something horrible was going to happen. "How would you like to try a local delicacy? I bet you aren't man enough to eat as much as Iceland can."

Denmark scoffed. "Of course I can eat as much as a little kid! Bring it on! What's this stuff called?"

Norway laughed, which was received by a confused- if not worried- look from Denmark.

"Hákarl."

…

*I don't really think anything happened in the year 84, but I wanted to create some sort of, like, mystery… _what did Denmark do in 84 that Norway can just use it to do whatever he wants without Denmark cutting people's heads off?_ Dude, bro… _I_ don't even know…

** Hákarl- a food from Iceland consisting of a Greenland which has been cured with a particular fermentation process and hung to dry for four to five months. Anthony Bourdain has described hákarl as "the single worst, most disgusting and terrible tasting thing" he has ever eaten. I've never tried it, so I've no clue how it tastes.

***(I) miðvikudagur- Wednesday  
(I) Þriðjudagur- Tuesday  
(I) Stóri bróðir- big brother  
(N) Storebror er ikke fornøyd lenger Island! Storebror Norge vil forlate deg her!- Big brother is not happy anymore Island! Big Brother Norway will leave you here  
Island- Iceland  
(I) Þú lofað- you promised  
I don't speak neither Icelandic or Norwegian (and school is over for the year, so I can't ask my school's Norwegian foreign exchange student, Ingrid) but it looked legit on googletranslate when I translated it back into English, so fingers crossed!

****Ok, I don't think Denmark would ever say "bloody pigeon", but I was watching Harry Potter while I wrote some of this and doing that affects how I write stuff… it's like an STD (only I like it…)

Obviously (being American) I don't really know much Scandinavian history (or any history, really. My history grade_ literally_ went up a letter grade since I started watching Hetalia). I basically relied on Wikipedia- which my teacher's forbid all students from using, and the middle school librarian will actually _yell_ at you if you're on the site. So anyway, when I saw the pictures of them in their (medieval?) old style clothing, I really liked how Norway and Iceland have matching pendants. I like to think that Ingólfur Arnarson- the man who established the capital of Iceland (again, from Wikipedia)- gave it to Norway when Norway visited the first time (I like to think he visited quite a few times with Denmark, Sweden (and Finland?) before he met Iceland) and he gave a matching one to Iceland when he settled.


End file.
